


don't build hope on something broken

by MageOfCole



Series: Cole Does Febuwhump 2021 [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse of Authority, CT-7567 | Rex Needs a Hug, Clone Troopers as Brothers (Star Wars), Dogma (Star Wars) Deserved Better, Dogma (Star Wars) Needs a Hug, FebuWhump2021, Gen, Headcanon, Hurt CT-7567 | Rex, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Planet Umbara (Star Wars), Pong Krell Being an Asshole, Protective CT-7567 | Rex, Umbara Arc (Star Wars: Clone Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:59:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29147835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MageOfCole/pseuds/MageOfCole
Summary: Rex could withstand Krell, could withstand the beatings; he'd been withstanding them since he was too little to understand why what he was was wrong, had been powering through them for years. He would take any punishment, if it meant his brothers wouldn’t have to.(No. 2 - "I can't take this anymore")
Relationships: 501st Legion & CT-7567 | Rex, Dogma & CT-7567 | Rex
Series: Cole Does Febuwhump 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137149
Comments: 40
Kudos: 133





	don't build hope on something broken

Hidden away from prying eyes, Rex curls around himself, trying to ignore the pain radiating through every part of his body, trying to push away the ache in his head.

He had known what would happen the moment Krell had ordered him to meet with him; he had _known_ that the General hadn’t been pleased that the men had refused to go through with the execution, had known immediately that someone would need to pay for the orders that hadn’t been followed. Rex had gone into the meeting knowing that someone would need to face the General’s ire, and he’d known that as long as it was _him_ , he’d accept any punishment if it meant his men wouldn’t have to, if it meant that Fives and Jesse wouldn’t be killed, wouldn’t need to suffer for their bravery.

He’d gone in, fully prepared for the blows that rained down on him, the poison spewed in his face, because he’d been weathering it since the first moment General Krell had stepped foot on the planet, but they’d gotten more frequent since taking the base. There was less time for Rex to gather himself afterwards, to lick his wounds, because Krell no longer needed to worry about someone stumbling on them, no longer needed to worry about someone seeing the punishments the General rained down on him.

Rex could withstand them, had been withstanding them since he was too little to understand why what he was was wrong. He could take a beating, had been for years. Sure, he hadn’t since the War broke out, but he was accustomed to it, and if it was him, it would mean that none of the others would be hurt. He would take any punishment, if it meant his brothers wouldn’t have to.

General Krell had been furious when Rex had walked in. Had been nearly frothing in rage as he’d paced back and forth, ranting against the troopers that hadn’t followed his orders, a pale-faced and quiet Dogma in the corner of the office, and Rex had been afraid. Terrified that Dogma would be hurt, or had already been hurt, because he’d had no idea how long Dogma had been there while Rex had been trying to keep the men and himself together - in the chaos that had followed Fives and Jesse being confined to the brig, he’d forgotten about Dogma.

What kind of Captain was he if he had forgotten the one brother that was the closest to the General. The one most in harm's way if General Krell lost his temper. 

Rex had stood silent, at attention, while the General paced, begging any power out there that the Jedi would send Dogma out, that the young trooper wouldn’t be hurt. He couldn’t fault Dogma for his insistence on following orders, he knows Dogma’s history. He knows what happened to Dogma before coming to the 501st, knows the thin line the younger man walks on, because another failure on Dogma’s record would bring censure. No trooper was sent to a Penal Battalion twice; if he didn’t follow orders to the letters, if a single complaint was filed against him, the best future Dogma would have to look forward to would be death.

He hopes that General Krell didn’t know how tight of a noose was tied around Dogma’s neck.

But there was no power out there that would respond to a clone.

Rex hadn’t made a sound when blows started raining down on him, hadn’t made a sound at the cruel words spat at him. He had kept himself quiet and still, had tried to block out the pain and the cruelty, tried to push away the aborted sounds Dogma was making. He had wanted desperately to assure his brother, to order him not to make a sound, but he hadn’t wanted to draw Krell’s attention to the younger trooper. He would withstand all of it, if it meant his brothers wouldn’t have to.

When Krell’s anger had finally run its course, he had left Rex there, limp on the ground, breathing through the pain in his lungs, coughing on the blood in his mouth, trying not to let anything show because Dogma was still there. Dogma is still in the room, rooted to the spot where he had been the whole time, shivering and breath shuttering, and Rex wants to comfort him, to pull him close until his tears run dry, but he hurts too much to move.

He doesn’t know how much more he can take.

Rex groans, then flinches when hands land on him, expecting a blow that never comes, mind spiralling into beatings and pain and never being good enough, and for a moment, Rex is CT-7567 again, scared and alone and beaten down until his will to go on broke. There’s no Cody here, no Alpha-17 to drag him out and protect him. There’s no Fordo and no Keeli; it’s only Rex, trapped in his own mind, chained by the agony of beatings.

It’s only Rex, and Dogma. Dogma who is gripping his shoulder, who is no longer trapped in the corner of the office, and who is staring at Rex with wide amber eyes, his face chalky. Dogma who saw _everything_.

Shame threatens to drown him, just as much as the blood caught in his throat. It bubbles up like acid, burning and hot inside of him, and Rex gets barely a moment of warning before he’d jerking away from his subordinate to retch onto the floor instead of Dogma’s armour.

Rex coughs, eyes watering, as bile flecked with blood dribbles past his chapped lips. His chest aches somewhere deep, something shifts, and Rex feels broken in more ways than one. “I can’t take this anymore.” He’s barely even aware of speaking out loud, his voice shattered, barely more than a whisper, but they hang in the air like a sword above his neck, threatening to drop if he lets himself fall apart.

Dogma’s voice wavers, thick with unshed tears and shaking with stress, “ _Captain_?”

“‘M sorry.” Rex whispers, fumbling blindly for the kid’s hand, and when he finds it, he squeezes with as much comfort as he can offer. “I’m sorry - you shouldn’t have seen that.”

Dogma’s face, still round with youth but sharp from the lack of food they’d all been suffering from, swims into his blurry vision. Force, he was still a _kid_ , not even fully grown and he was already out on the battlefield, a death sentence hanging around his neck if he so much as stepped out of line once. Rex had tried desperately to protect all his _vod’ike_ , but Umbara had shown him how much of a failure he was.

He couldn’t keep any of them safe.

“Captain - are you -” he stumbles over his words, shaking like a leaf in the winds, “- how bad are you hurt?”

Rex lets out a pained breath between his teeth, pushing himself onto his knees so he wasn’t slumped near his own sick any longer, “I’ll live.” He sways slightly, bumping shoulders with the young trooper as he curls a hand loosely across the back of the kid’s neck, shoring up his own bravado. “I’ve had worse.”

“Sir -” Dogma’s voice breaks, quivers, sounding young and lost, “- the General - he - he _beat_ you.”

“Yeah.” The Captain hisses, casting his eyes for where he had dropped his helmet. He’s glad that Krell had confined the blows to his torso, where his armour could absorb the worst of the attacks; he wouldn’t have to waste bacta on his face this time, luckily, because they didn’t have the bacta to spare on keeping his dirty little secret hidden.

“Sir, you need Kix.”

Rex jolts, “No.” His words tilt towards his captain-voice, carrying a desperate order. Kix couldn’t know - no one could. There was too much at stake; Rex knows that if Kix knew what Krell was doing to him, nothing would stop his usually soft-spoken medic from confronting the General, and Rex has enough nightmares of the green glow of a lightsaber reflected in Fives’ eyes to let anyone else be risked. “No, Kix can’t know.”

“Captain, _please_.” Dogma begs, gripping desperately at him, “You’re _hurt_!”

“Don’t make me make it an _order_ , trooper.”

The private flinches back, eyes widening, before his expression shutters once more, falling into the mask of a perfect soldier, but the redness of his eyes betrays his true thoughts. Rex hates it, he wishes he could take those words back, but this is his burden to bear.

“Yes sir.”

There’s too much at stake.


End file.
